


THE ROADS NOT TAKEN

by mabb5



Category: Star Trek The Next Generation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2012-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:46:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mabb5/pseuds/mabb5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picard and Guinan have a chat about life, love and bluffing…</p>
            </blockquote>





	THE ROADS NOT TAKEN

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the last issue of INVOLUTION, #12, 1998. Since ORION PRESS no longer posts TNG stories on their web site, I’ve posted it here.
> 
> Not part of the A/U that are my adult novels, THE BEST LAID PLANS, and THE SKY’S THE LIMIT.
> 
> All the usual disclaimers apply.
> 
> Comments would be appreciated.

THE ROADS NOT TAKEN…  
(AN INTERLUDE FROM “All Good Things…”)

“You seem restless.”

He ignored her.

“Tonight is the upper deck’s poker night. The universe won’t collapse if you deal yourself in.” Under her breath she added, “Of course, Riker might…”

She stood across from him, in her usual position behind the bar, absentmindedly doing all of the mysterious rituals that made up a barkeep’s rites.

He still ignored her.

Guinan persisted. “Well, you don’t normally cone into Ten Forward to socialize.”

He turned his head, looking about the empty ship’s lounge. It was hours before opening. Other than Guinan, it was obvious that there was no one else in the empty room available for socializing. Then he took another sip of his almost-tepid Earl Grey tea, and continued to ignore her. He wanted, needed, something more from Guinan than just chit chat. The past few days of his life had been too tempestuous for mundane discussions.

“All right,” she remarked, slowly adjusting her cerulean blue trapezoid hat; she then bent down and straightened out some invisible wrinkles in her matching skirt. She was doing all of this as if to give him more time to reconsider his lack of response.

She waited.

He drank some more tea.

“I am going to leave,” she announced with a sense of finality lending a ringing importance to her words. This brought about a response.

He thunked his glass tea mug on the top of the bar. “Madam-you have only just returned to the Enterprise. Today, in fact, according to Mr. Data.”

She could tell by the way that he spoke with his oh-so-precisely-uttered syllables, that his annoyance with her was great. And that it was based upon many things, both past and present. “I take it that you missed me.”

His grimace was involuntary, seemingly as if he were about to say something that would be at odds with his carefully conceived and protected image.

She hid her smile as she watched his silent struggle and innocently asked, “Anything interesting happen around here while I was gone?”

“Guinan!”

The way that Jean-Luc Picard spat out her name told Guinan everything she needed to know about captainly temperament at the moment. She was getting to him. The only question was, was she really getting through to him? He obviously needed to talk about something otherwise he wouldn’t be standing here annoying her. She picked up a glass and held it up to the light as if she were checking for invisible spots.

“I thought that you were going to leave me.”

Guinan found his choice of words to be rather interesting but she knew better than to utter that particular thought out loud. “If you want me to leave you, I will.”

“No!” Then, as if even he were surprised by the force of his response, he quickly drained his mug as if everything was perfectly normal between them, instead of being fraught with tension. He chose his next words carefully. “You have not been on board the Enterprise for a rather long period of time, Guinan. More so than what is your custom.” He enunciated his consonants with a bit more clipped precision than usual.

Guinan was not fooled by the words that he was saying even as she picked up another bar glass. “And so, you missed me?”

He grimaced.

She persisted. “Are you going to confess to me that you did miss me?” She took a deep breath and waited. Nothing. “Or, are you really trying to ask me where I was?”

Knowing that she would persevere until he did lose control of his temper, he surrendered, marshalling his energies toward an argument that he might have a chance of winning. “Guinan, you accompanied Beverly to the Starfleet hearings into the death of Dr. Reyga.”

“You didn’t.”

He didn’t respond to that accusation. He would have gone with Beverly if ship’s business had not intervened. And Starfleet had been given his complete report supporting Dr. Crusher for the Ferengi incident. He countered with, “You never came back.”

“But Beverly did. And isn’t that what really counts?” She watched then judged his reaction to Beverly’s name before she added, “I went shopping.”

He didn’t exactly believe her. “Guinan. It is now 47990.2 The Reyga incident occurred at SD 46830. You have been gone for almost two complete tours of duty.”

She ignored the fact that he was almost questioning her veracity. Instead, she reached beneath the bar and pulled out a bottle of something green. With a reverent attitude she opened the bottle, and then poured the precious liquor into the two previously inspected glasses. She made sure that the liquid levels were equal before she handed Jean-Luc his Aldebaran whiskey. She waited until he actually took the glass from her fingers before she replied, “I went shopping on Tau Alpha C.”

His eyes widened as he placed the location of the Traveler’s star system.

“It took me a while to get there.” She saw the question in his eyes. “My uncle Terkim is getting married. Again.” She shrugged.

His fingers tightened about his glass.

Her too-knowing smile reminded him of a former tactical instructor at the Academy who relished coming in for the coup de maitre.

She added, with just a hint of naughtiness, “Terkim is almost as difficult a person to buy a wedding present for as you are, Jean-Luc.”

He drank all of his whiskey in one try. Then he reached over and grabbed the newly-opened bottle, pouring some more of its contents into his glass. Then he drank that too, before he finally reacted to Guinan’s observation.

“I am not getting married, Guinan.”

H was going beyond annoyance, now. He was getting angry, not that she could observe any obvious signs of that emotion. But she knew him too well and recognized the signals. And she decided that this was a good thing.

“Funny, that’s not what shipboard gossip says. The rumormongers have been bandying about something…” She paused to see if he would comment. He didn’t. “…something about you and Beverly being married in the future? The very near future?”

Jean-Luc concluded that even though she had been missing on board the Enterprise during Q’s latest visit, she had obviously heard some of the odious details about it. He warily sighed as if the fates of too many futures had been resting upon his shoulders too often as of late. He knew that it had been a foolish desire on his part to hope that she would not have learned about the possible futures of the captain and his crew. She was the only person on board the ship who could ever use that knowledge to plague him.

“That was only Q’s foolishness, Guinan. Not mine. Marriage is not a possibility.” His stiff expression masked the sorrow that she saw for a moment in his look.

“Now who’s talking foolishness, Jean-Luc?” Guinan drank her whiskey as she waited for his reaction.

Jean-Luc stymied her. He tried an unexpected, different method of attack. “Who told you about my marriage to Beverly? Only my senior officers knew about the marriage-and-divorce component of Q’s purported future.”

“You’re wrong.” She finished off her whiskey and poured some more of the green nectar into her glass. She poured more into his glass as well.

He drank some of the green stuff before he asked, “Wrong about what?”

“You know, Q knew about your marriage to Beverly, too,” she explained, waiting for the simpleness of her statement to sink into his consciousness.

For a second he was puzzled, and then he relaxed, instinctively glad that he would not have any lingering suspicious about a tendency for gossip amongst his senior line officers. And then he wondered when Q had told her…

“You’ve seen Q since…?” He looked at her, trying to understand why she was permitting him to question certain facts about her life that until now, she had always avoided mentioning, in spite of his suspicions.

“Today. Yesterday. Yesteryear. When I was fifteen years old. When I was four-hundred-and-fifteen years old. Who can keep track? Q comes and goes as he pleases. And you can never be sure that you are keeping all of the timelines straight when Q is meddling with your realities.”

He nodded, knowing that there was a certain truth to her words. For a while, he just sat there, sipping his whiskey, feeling its fire flood through his veins. He began to relax. He studied her expression, knowing that she wasn’t subjecting him to her personal concern, cross-examination and observations, out of just a mere whim or a wicked desire to torment him. She was trying to make a point. And this time, she was stepping on all his toes with ten-ton overshoes in order to emphasize that point. When Guinan was ready, she would make it.

“If you didn’t want Beverly to think about marriage to you, then why did you tell the lady about that particular fork in your future’s road?”

“You seemed to have missed several salient points about that alleged reality, Guinan. In it, Beverly and I also got a divorce.”

She could see the sadness and regret in his eyes for an event that had yet to happen. And his determination not to let it happen at all.

“And…” she prodded.

He closed his eyes for a second, controlling himself.

She continued bedeviling him. “…You have some sort of silly-sounding syndrome that drives the people around you crazy while thinking that you are the one going crazy, too?”

“Yes.” He glared at her.

“Did Beverly check you inside and out, sideways and byways?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have it?”

“No.” He took a deep breath. “But that does not mean that I will not one day become ill.”

“So, you’ve decided that since it is possible that you can’t forestall getting sick-that is if you are going to get sick at all-that the only thing that you can honorably do is to prevent Beverly from marrying you in the first place?”

“Yes… no…” He jammed his glass onto the bar top, sloshing some of the alcohol onto it. “Dammit, Guinan. Stop trying to twist my words.”

For a second, she disregarded his words as she rapidly wiped up the droplets before they could damage the real wood surface of the bar. “This isn’t synthehol,” she sniped.

“Perhaps we should be drinking that.”

She put down her cloth and stared at him. “Now is not the time for clear head and cool thinking, Jean-Luc. You do too much of that, all the time.” She harrumphed. “Live a little.”

“Meaning?” He picked up the bottle and replenished both of their drinks.

“You should have made love to her like you wanted to, when you were both stranded around that campfire on KesPrytt.”

How the hell did Guinan know that?

For a second he was speechless, then he silently acknowledged Guinan’s right to speak her mind. She was the only person in his life who could dare to go too far with him. Many years ago she had earned the right to speak about anything and everything to him. Their friendship had survived because of, and in spite of, her privileges. And it had become something greater, finer, evolving into something more than just a close friendship.

And then he told her his truth.

“Beverly does not want me.”

“You know this for a fact?”

He nodded.

“Simply because she told you this during your botched seduction attempt at dinner? After you were de-tached?”

“What?” She had truly shocked him with her knowledge of this incident for he had revealed to no one the events of that intimate dinner, much less disclosing its disappointing, unexpected outcome.

“Have you discussed your feelings with Beverly, lately?”

“Of course not.”

“Of course not,” she mimicked, startling him even some more, since she had rarely twitted him to his face in the past. “Fool,” she broadly announced.

This time, he carefully placed his glass on the bar, before he slid off of his bar stool. He stared at her, hiding his dismay, even as he roughly jerked his uniform tunic downward. He went to pat his comm badge. She reached over and stopped him, grabbing his wrist. She was surprisingly strong.

“Captain, you are not needed on the bridge.”

He looked down at her hand, knowing that he could easily pull away from her grasp. But he stood there, considering why she was doing this. With an audible sigh, he returned to his bar stool. Only then, did she release him.

“I’m sorry.”

She was still surprising him.

“For what?”

He didn’t think that manhandling her ship’s captain was the reason for her apology.

“I should have been here when you needed me. And I wasn’t.”

“Guinan-I can take care of myself.”

“Captain Jean-Luc Picard can take care of his command without question,” Guinan agreed. “But sometimes, old friend, you forget about tending to the truly important things in your life.”

“Why do I have the premonition that you are going to tell me what they are?” he softly teased, his anger quickly fading away over her actions. Even though he thought that his actions had been fitting and proper as of late, obviously, she held a differing opinion. And though he might be able to delay the forthcoming lecture, there wasn’t any way, short of crashing the Enterprise into a planet, that he could actually avoid it.

“You should remember to take care of your heart, too.”

“I do,” he whispered.

“Bah!” She shook her head. “You didn’t tell Beverly the whole truth.”

“Of course I did!”

“On Kesprytt, you told her that you loved her. Correct?”

“Yes.”

He was wary now, not really wanting to learn this particular point that she was trying to make. He sensed that she was fencing with him; her words an epee with an unblunted tip.

“And she knew your thoughts?”

“Yes.”

“And your dreams?”

He inwardly squirmed at this probing question, but refused to reveal his consternation. “Yes,” he replied, his firm response bouncing off the walls of the empty lounge.

“Your lusts?”

“What?” This time, the word was a croaking sound, barely discernible.

“You have a versatile and imaginative libido, Jean-Luc.” She arched an invisible right eyebrow, as if she knew more that she ought to know about his libido. “And I’ve yet to meet the Human male who can completely control his sexual thoughts every second of every hour.”

“Meaning?”

“So, did you understand everything about Beverly’s thoughts and dreams, too?”

“I…” He thought for a while as he remembered. “Some things were evident. But some of her other thoughts… at times, I was confused.”

“So you sensed that Beverly was attracted to you when you were on KesPrytt?”

“No. She had not idea until…”

“Bull. You’re wrong.”

“No, you are wrong, Guinan.” Of this he was sure. “Beverly had no prior romantic feelings toward me.”

“You sensed it, right?”

He almost answered her. But something in her expression kept him from responding.

“She’s been attracted to you since the very beginning, Jean-Luc. Even if she did nothing about it then. And after Jack died, why do you think she agreed to become CMO of the Enterprise when you got the command?” She shook her head at his lack of comprehension. She continued. “Jean-Luc, on KesPrytt, both of you were just beginning to read each other’s conscious and unconscious thoughts. If you had bothered to ask Deanna about what it is like to accurately interpret someone’s thoughts and feelings, she’d have told you how difficult it can be-even for a trained Betazoid with a lifetime of experience.”

He heard some wisdom in her words. “Much less for two novices who are desperately trying not to read each other’s most intimate thoughts.”

She agreed, pleased that he was beginning to understand. “I mean, you asked Beverly to dinner, and you both knew it was not going to be your commonplace, boringly proper dinner in the captain’s quarters. You must have sensed some sort of interest from the lady, when she agreed to come.”

He remembered that time when he had dared to take a chance.

“Yes, I suppose at one point, I did delude myself into thinking…”

“She’s a proud woman, Jean-Luc. Don’t you think it’s possible that she misinterpreted your sudden decision to alter the nature of your relationship?”

“Sudden?” he muttered to himself, as he vividly recalled too many nights of suffering from some of his unrequited desires.

“Jean-Luc, did you ever actually say to the woman: I love you? Did you ever both to tell Beverly that you still do care? That you love her more today than you did decades ago?”

“What?”

“Did you ever both to say to the woman whom you invited to your quarters that she means more to you than just being the doctor on board your ship? Or that you share mutual desires?”

“What?”

This time, he was affronted by her words.

She walked around the length of the bar, until she was standing next to him. “Mind if I take a seat?”

He was too bemused by his own chaotic thoughts to respond.

Reaching over to get her glass, she sat down. Then she sipped her whiskey for a while, waiting.

“Guinan…” He could not give voice to his plea.

But she heard him anyway. “We all have events in our lives that we’d like to live over again. Including Beverly. And this time Q has actually given you another chance to do so. Use it.” For a moment, she seemingly created the illusion that she was speaking with the wisdom of many ages. “It is time for you to pick a different road, Jean-Luc. Tell Beverly that you love her.” She smiled. “And then, see what happens.” She softly muttered to herself, “You may even end up dancing at your granddaughter’s wedding - after she becomes President of the Federation.”

“Yes…” He was about to explain what he meant to do, when he heard the voice of his Number One paging, “Captain to the bridge.”

“Merde.”

He didn’t need Guinan to warn him about going up to the bridge after drinking real alcohol. He tapped his comm badge. 

“Commander Riker.”

“Yes, Captain?”

Jean-Luc stared at his half-full whiskey glass. “Is this an emergency?”

“No emergency, sir. We are entering Sector 25901. You asked to be informed, Captain.”

“So I did, Number One. Carry on without me.” Picard fingered the rim of his drink and almost smiled, as if he were mellowing.

“Is everything all right, Captain?”

“Yes.” Picard could hear the concern in Will’s voice. “There are just other matters capturing my attention at the moment, Commander.” He ended the page.

“Wouldn’t do to broadcast over the ship that the captain of the Enterprise is drinking real alcohol,” Guinan whispered with just a touch of mordant humor as she watched Picard finish off his drink.

“Correct, Guinan.” This time he stood, and went behind the bar looking about as if he were searching for something.

“You’re not planning on starting another bottle, are you, Jean-Luc?”

“Guinan. I am the captain of the Enterprise. If I desire another bottle, I do not need your permission to get one.”

But when he found what he was looking for, it wasn’t a bottle of whiskey. Instead, he placed an unopened pack of cards on the bar.

“It’s Riker’s night to host the poker game when he gets off duty,” Guinan casually observed, as tension drained from her soul. “Riker is also fond of bluffing.”

“Do tell,” he softly replied, chuckling, anticipating the challenge before him.

“Watch out for Worf. He’s a believer in the guile method of bluffing.”

Picard considered this advice and nodded, agreeing with her assessment.

“Geordi is usually very lucky at cards, but he is not a master poker player like some of the others.”

“And Deanna?”

Guinan grinned. “She views poker playing as a form of constructive group interactive therapy.”

“She would,” he grumbled.

“You’re not going to ask me about Beverly’s poker playing skills?”

“I have played poker with the lady in the past.”

“She’s learned a few things since the days when you were a captain with Jack Crusher,” Guinan warned. Then Guinan paused, thinking about something for a moment. “She also has never taught them her version of Arvadan truth-or-dare poker.”

Picard sighed, suddenly recollecting. “When we were young and poor, we couldn’t afford to play for latinum. Just dares… Beverly did this sensational fan dance…”

“I had heard rumors about that incident. I also heard that you wouldn’t dance with her.” This last was a statement of fact, and not speculation.

“I couldn’t. She was dating Jack, then.”

“You could. Now.”

He considered her words. And all that this insubordinate barkeep had done for him. “Yes, I suppose that I could.” Reaching over, he kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Guinan,” he softly stated.

“Sometimes, fates change, Jean-Luc. You get to choose your path. And you do get a second chance.”

Picard pivoted, and walked toward the doors of Ten Forward.

“Jean-Luc,” she called after him. “don’t forget that Data always counts the cards.”

He stopped and smiled. “That is one of his weaknesses, Guinan.”

“Don’t you want another bottle of your special whiskey?”

He looked back at her. “Considering that this is the first time that I will ever be playing poker as a captain with my senior officers, I would prefer not to have them blame their poker losses on the imbibing of a beverage that I provided.” He smiled, as if he’d reached more than one decision during the last few minutes. “I’ll save the whiskey for a victory celebration after I beat Will Riker. Now, I am going to my cabin to rest.” He glanced back at her. “Will you be joining me, tonight?”

“No. I’ve still got to help my cousins plan my Uncle Terkim’s bridal shower. Besides, if you bluff Riker, I don‘t want him claiming that I hexed him. Again.”

She watched him go, satisfied with what she had accomplished. Captain Jean-Luc Picard was relaxed now. He almost seemed happy. He now walked like a man who had just made an important decision or two. 

For she sensed what was coming. But with the right decisions having been made, maybe the captain of the Enterprise would have the fortitude to deal with what the future would bring. Sooner or later, the gods would finally decide that he had saved the universe enough times…

After he had left the bar, and before her busy hours started, Guinan raised her glass toward the stars. “I think that I’ll start chilling some real champagne,” she announced to the glittering beauties. “Beverly is going to win tonight. My stars have ordained it…” she informed them. She finished off her drink. “And, if that doesn’t happen tonight, then I’ll teach Dr. Crusher a few of the tricks that I have up my sleeves in order to make it happen in the near future…”

The End.


End file.
